One of them
by public static void
Summary: Once, Tom Riddle found a very special mirror hidden deep within the dungeons at Hogwarts.


_For the Golden Snitch Forum._

 _Through the Universe Challenge; Albedo — (object) Mirror of the Erised_

* * *

Once, Tom Riddle found a very special mirror hidden deep within the dungeons at Hogwarts. When he looked in it, Tom would see himself with a handsome man and a beautiful woman, both would be smiling pleasantly at him, each with a wand on their hand, robes and an aura of powerful magic.

He knew it to be a lie and stormed away, angry that some piece of magic would bring forth the deepest desire of his heart, that some random mirror would know what Tom desired the most.

He went back to his room in the dungeons, close the canopy around the bed and curled around himself under the warm covers. He shed tears of anger and promised he would destroy the mirror if he saw it again.

* * *

Tom didn't see the mirror for quite some time. It wasn't until he became a prefect in his fifth year that he encountered the artefact again. By then, he had changed much and didn't destroy the mirror upon seeing it, knowing the effort it should have taken to enchant like that and not wanting to harm such precious piece of magic.

But he was afraid of looking into it.

Five years passed since the first time, but Tom remembered vividly the colour of the man's eyes (dark like his own), the shade of the woman's skin (pale, like his own), and the many details that turned a man and a woman behind him in the image into his parents.

He was Tom Riddle, though, and he dared to look in it because he vowed there would be no power on Earth that would render him helpless. He would never bow, he would never fear.

Tom looked into the mirror and saw himself.

* * *

"You look strange, Tom," Walburga mentioned casually. The silk and silver fan in her hand moved swiftly, provoking a soft wind that tried to mess with her black curls. "Ever since last night. Did something happen with Charlus?"

Tom resisted the urge to scoff and instead rolled his eyes. Walburga, the lewd girl, would never stop insisting that he and Charlus, one of the few light-aligned friends he had, were an item.

"I'll have you know," he begun saying, "that Charlus is betrothed to your own cousin."

It was Walburga's turn to roll her eyes. "Dorea is absolutely boring. Charlus, strangely, isn't."

He saw the spark of interest in her grey eyes and smiled wickedly.

"Does he interest _you_?" Tom asked, enjoying the blush on Walburga's pearly skin. "What would Orion have to say?"

"He won't find out if you know what's best for you, Tommy."

Thom scowled. He had thought the threats over in their friendship, but it appeared Walburga was as stubborn as an erumpent.

"After all, I have done nothing wrong," she added before Tom could make a threat of his own, one that would shut her up.

"Besides meeting with him all Fridays before Herbology?" Tom said, grinning when Walburga narrowed her eyes and stuck out her tongue like a child of eleven instead of a young woman of sixteen.

"It's not like you don't have secrets, boy," she said, lifting her chin. "Would you like me to share what I know of poor, moaning Myrtle Warren?" She stood up and crossed the space between them, sitting right too close to Tom. "I can keep secrets, Riddle. I've been keeping this one for a few weeks now. Why don't you tell me more about you?"

"Like what?" he asked, humouring her just this once. He might dislike her attitude, but he needed her surname and the prestige of her family. "I am an open book."

"Then tell me, what is it that you wish the most?" she asked in a whisper, her grey eyes completely focused on his own. "What is your heart's deepest desire?"

Tom smirked. "It won't be a secret if I tell you, Walburga."

* * *

He went back to the room where the mirror had been just a few days ago and was pleased that the object still stood there, still and calling like a siren's song.

Tom didn't hesitate this time and stood in front of the mirror, basking in the power of this reflection of himself.

He stood straighted, imitating the posture of the reflection. He took in the quality of his clothing, the gold and onyx cufflinks on his shirt, the swift way in which the Tom Riddle in the mirror smiled, and _wished_.

He wished he could be powerful, to be known as one of them. Tom wanted his blood to be pure, and the Chamber of Secrets and his parseltongue, said he could as well have it.

He just needed to prove it to all.


End file.
